Never Let Me Go.

I'm reading this book called Never Let Me Go. It's the name of the book that caught my eyes first - straightforward and to-the-point, exactly what I'd say to someone I love.

I crawled through the beginning of the story - not that it's unimpressive, I knew it's leading to something but its air of ambiguity just left me confused. But in general I like the narrative being a first-person remembrance, with bits and pieces of details being brought up disorderly. It might be a bit of a jumble but it's how memory works, isn't it? I mean, we do experience things chronologically, but in recollection, we still have to pick up and put together the grains of the past here and there.

Then you'd perhaps find it contrary to your intention - what once seemed trivial stays the longest in time, and what once mattered like the whole world, when looking back, can be less than nothing at all. Sometimes we can't really decide what's important and what's negligible, for Time has its own judgment, and we're just not wise or old enough to decipher a certain meaning, and its place in the grand scheme of Life.

I got the book from Flow, a secondhand book store in Central. I asked the shopkeeper about the book and it amazed me how he seemed to remember the exact location of the book in the shop which was still in a mess (they just moved to Hollywood Road). I like books to be old and weary so I don't mind secondhand and lending them to others at all, as long as they'd return to me. It isn't easy for secondhand bookstores to survive in this city, so I feel better to have contributed a bit in keeping them in business, as I wish them to always be.